


Only See What You Want To See

by spockandawe



Series: Delete, Rewrite Me [2]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Dehumanization, Doctors & Physicians, Gen, Politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 13:26:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13459194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spockandawe/pseuds/spockandawe
Summary: The fresh repairs are obvious when Prowl comes in for his appointment. Not to the untrained optic, sure, but he should know better than to think you’d miss it, even in just a quick checkup. The one knee’s been rebuilt from the ground up, and that’s clear as soon as you look at the machinery of the joint versus the struts around it and see all the spots where old parts attach to new. And the optic is new too, which you aren’t sure about until you get in close and personal, but once you’ve got that view, the finish of the glass is too clear to be more than a lunar cycle old. Which doesn’t even touch on the fresh patches in his plating.





	Only See What You Want To See

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Harutemu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harutemu/gifts).



> Like with the first story, credit for the idea goes to [Larrydraws](larrydraws.tumblr.com) who posted [this gorgeous art](http://larrydraws.tumblr.com/post/149671727614/ohgod-i-accidentally-aud-on-twitter-today-so-hard) and [these thoughts](http://larrydraws.tumblr.com/post/149757761909/a-friend-asked-me-about-my-ideas-behind-prowlmegs).
> 
> The basic idea is that in the IDW setting, the Functionist government reacted to Megatron's writings with empurata, plus taking his voice and memories and tossing him in with the mining drones. A long, long time later, Prowl is given a mining drone as a gift as part of an unkind joke, and then plot happens. And then this story does.
> 
>  
> 
> [Tumblr](http://spockandawe.tumblr.com/post/170027938041/harutemu-saidif-youre-feeling-it-i-would-love)

The fresh repairs are obvious when Prowl comes in for his appointment. Not to the untrained optic, sure, but he should know better than to think you’d miss it, even in just a quick checkup. The one knee’s been rebuilt from the ground up, and that’s clear as soon as you look at the machinery of the joint versus the struts around it and see all the spots where old parts attach to new. And the optic is new too, which you aren’t sure about until you get in close and personal, but once you’ve got that view, the finish of the glass is too clear to be more than a lunar cycle old. Which doesn’t even touch on the fresh patches in his plating.

You don’t want to know. Whatever Prowl is getting up to, you can be plenty sure you don’t want any part in it, you don’t even want to be able to answer questions if someone gets suspicious and comes poking around. Whatever back alley doctor he saw for this— fine. All for the best that he isn’t in your records for repairs. The only thing that would make you happier is if you didn’t know they happened at all, so you can still be privately sour that this other doctor didn’t do his job well enough to make the repairs invisible.

And you don’t think Prowl is stupid enough to think you’d miss it. There’s something about his expression that’s a little too serene and unconcerned, and he holds onto that even as you test the strength of the patch for what must have been a nasty crack across his entire shin.

 _Enough,_ fine, you can let it go. It’s better for both of you if you stay out of this. Time for internals now, and if he’s got half-hidden repairs in there too, you’re sure you can find some way to vent your irritation.

When you open up Prowl’s chest, his new pet drone shifts, and you bite on your tongue to stop yourself from cursing. _Frag,_ you forgot that thing was here. It blends into the background too well for your taste. It’s easy to look past drones. Until this one moves, and you’re reminded of how absurdly _huge_ it is.

Although— You try to ignore stories about something that happened to a friend of a friend, and no, you don’t have any evidence, but it’s _definitely_ true, take your word for it. But you keep stealing glances at the drone’s claws, trying to figure out how they’d match up to the kind of damage Prowl got fixed.

It can’t hurt to just be sure. Casually, you ask, “Any trouble with the new drone?”

If you didn’t have your hands inside his chest, you probably would have missed that fraction of a moment where he tenses and forces himself to relax.

“No,” he says, letting boredom leak through into his voice. “Why would you ask?”

You snort. “Small talk. I hear it’s something people do.”

Prowl smiles fractionally, relaxing a little further. “So I hear.”

“You just hear stories. Drone went rogue, hurt its owner, destroyed some property, that kind of slag.” You keep your voice as bland and unconcerned as you can. “One that big, makes you wonder what it could get up to if its programming went haywire.”

Prowl laughs. Which wouldn’t strike you as odd, except for one, it’s Prowl. And for two, you felt how he reacted earlier when you brought up the drone in the first place.

You keep your optics on your work, but on the edge of your vision you can see the drone shift again. And you’re not sure if you imagine you can see Prowl tilt his head the slightest bit to look at it. Slag it all, you have no idea what you’ve stumbled onto, but you’re pretty sure that either you’re in danger or Prowl is. Or both? You’re going to go with both.

You wrestle with yourself for a klik, but who are you kidding, this isn’t even a question. Whatever Prowl is doing is dangerous, and knowing _him,_ it’s probably even more dangerous than it seems to you right now. That absolute fragger. It takes you a moment to figure out how to approach the subject. Just think, a few short kliks ago, your life was infinitely simpler. Ah, the good old days.

Eventually, you say, “Heard anything new you can share about those upgrades they’re giving the military? Figure you probably had, given that project you’ve been on.”

“Upgrades?”

“Yeah, _you_ know. The optics upgrades.” You’re staying as casual as you can, but internally, you’re checking and double checking the classification levels on your files. Prowl has the clearance, of course, but once you reach a certain point, you’re only supposed to share information with mechs who have a need to know. If he already knew, this wouldn’t be much of an issue, but, “Been an interesting research and development process. Recording and storing the data internally, that’s basic. But splitting the feed to send it to a central hub at the same time, using only the existing cranial space? Took some time to work that one out.”

There’s a little more of that tension bleeding back into his frame, but nothing as sharp as when you mentioned the drone. “I imagine so. I’ve been busy with other projects, and I’d venture your information is more recent than mine. Have there been any interesting developments lately?”

Thank Primus for Prowl. This kind of thing makes up for how he acts the _rest_ of the time. You shake your head. “After I finished the new optic designs for the military frametypes, I’ve been on standby. I think the mechs in charge want to see some results in the field before they start rolling it out to the rest of the population.”

Prowl’s face looks perfectly calm, and someone would need to have their hands in him like you to feel how tense he is. “True, it wouldn’t do to put in all that work without some proof that it works. I expect designing optics for the entire taxonomy will take considerable time?”

You grimace. Though there’s probably only so long you can get away with those kinds of expressions. “I doubt it. Even moving carefully, there’s only so much variation in optic design out there. Once the designs are proven, adapting them will be quick.” You pause and force yourself to chuckle. “If there are delays, I’ve been reassured that the Council can spare other medics to help me with the work.”

“That is good to know.”

Right here in the government buildings, it wouldn’t be safe to assume any conversation was completely private. Prowl’s tone is perfectly pleasant, but his expression is flat and his mouth is a thin line.

You steal another quick look over at the drone, and you still might not know what’s up with _that_ business, but you think you’ve earned enough goodwill to prod a little.

So your optics are on Prowl’s internals, but all your _attention_ is on Prowl’s face when you say, “If it’s a success, I hear they might roll it out to nonsentient machinery too.”

Prowl doesn’t react much to that. But out of the corner of your optic, you see the _drone_ jerk before stilling again.

Oh, no. Whatever is going on here, you don’t like it. “I get to talk shop all day, don’t mind me. How’s personal life? I hear you made a bit of a stir at Momus’s last event.”

“While you were on shift, I suppose,” he says drily. You chuckle. It’s easy enough to guess. “I thought it was quite a success, but I think I might have scandalized some of those poor, delicate sparks.”

Prowl is actually smiling a little. That’s enough of a shock that you can’t help laughing again. “Well you can’t stop _there,_ tell me more.”

You’ve heard some of this before, gossip does manage to reach you, even as busy as you are. But it’s better than any of the gossip to hear Prowl oh-so-innocently describing the first visit from Decimus.

“I think I just may have upset him,” he sighs. “I do hope I didn’t offend him so badly he’ll refuse to visit again.”

You bite your glossa to stop yourself from laughing, even though you’re grinning widely as you continue with Prowl’s examination. You’ve missed this, you really do forget what he can be like, at his best. Without thinking, you say, “You should come around more often. I never see you over here outside of appointments these days—”

And you catch yourself before you can go any further, but that’s about two sentences too late. You wonder why Prowl is never in the medical wing of the Council building anymore. You wonder why he’s been avoiding the area. The area with the mnemosurgery department. You _wonder._

So you’re a bit distracted when Prowl tilts his head to look at the drone again, but you notice just in time to spot the drone turning its head towards Prowl, its optic dilating and refocusing. You peer a little closer at that. You don’t work on drones, you don’t have enough time for the mechs you need to treat as it is, but— The optic isn’t much, but you would have thought it was a cut above what usually gets built into a drone. And a _mining_ drone at that.

“Momus tells me it’s a very high end model,” Prowl says, and you try not to jump. He’s staring at you now. You just shrug, even though you can see the drone’s head swiveling towards you also.

“Makes sense,” you say, trying to sound careless. “If anyone would know, it’s him. Did he say it was that shows the difference?”

Prowl relaxes a little again, just reciting information, bland and casual. You focus on the drone as you wrap up Prowl’s examination. The joints, what you can see of its cranial structure past its optic, the way its plating is fitted together.

After you finally let Prowl’s chest close again, and finish downloading his examination results to a datapad, you jerk your head towards the drone and say, “May I?”

He takes the datapad and waves you off. “By all means.”

At first you just take one arm and manipulate it, testing the elbow and peering up at what you can see of its shoulder. It turns its head to watch you, but you ignore it. And really, it just looks like a drone. You’d say your undefined suspicions are entirely baseless— Except they’re based on Prowl, and the way you’ve been feeling him react since this conversation started.

You peer a little more closely at the drone’s plating. In line with the mining frametypes you’ve seen, which means it should be in line with the design of mining drones as well. It is a well-built model. Some of these drones look like they fall apart as soon as they try to walk, but this one is solidly constructed. Joints are good, responses are good, and its plating design is sophisticated enough you’d almost think it could even handle a transformation.

Wait.

The idea— It’s absurd. Especially since you’ve heard the backstory of Proteus’s gift from multiple parties, and it’s been the same from the start. And the way the drone is shaped, it doesn’t have an alt mode it could turn into. It would be— Something heavy, something suitable for the mines, obviously. But there’s no wheels, no treads, no obvious function, nothing. Of course, a quiet, dangerous voice whispers to you that it would be so easy to add those things on. Or strip them off.

And now that you’re thinking about it, you’re close enough to see all the very fresh patches on the drone’s frame, and that the surface of its optic is so clear it has to be new. Maybe even… approximately as new as Prowl’s.

You can’t stop thinking it. Prowl’s optics are on you now, you can feel them burning into the back of your neck, but you can’t just stop _here._

Before you can stop yourself, you say, “While you’re in, does your drone need any repairs? I don’t have time for a full appointment, but I wouldn’t mind running a few quick tests, as a favor.”

You flip up the panel on the drone’s arm hiding its diagnostic ports, and have barely a nanoklik to look at them before Prowl is there, his hand firmly pushing yours aside and closing the panel.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” he says. Calm but cold. Not _angry,_ perhaps, but you just came awfully close to crossing a line. Which is understandable, because you didn’t have that panel open for long, but it was just long enough to spot the fresh little comms port, tucked away in a corner.

Frag. You don’t have any idea what you’re getting yourself into. But even if you stayed completely out of it after this, you doubt that would protect you from anything. “We should meet up for drinks sometime,” you tell him. “Talk about those optics upgrades. Got some questions about implementation, and I’d like to get input from someone who’ll be using the feeds in the field.”

His expression thaws slightly. “That does sound like a good plan. Though perhaps at my home rather than a bar, if we’re going to discuss that sort of... _private_ information.”

You try not to sigh with relief as you say goodbye and he strolls off down the halls. Looks like you haven’t quite burned that bridge just yet. Though he was willing enough to let Decimus into his home too, so you don’t know if that necessarily says anything good about you. And when you get him in private, you’ll be able to give him a piece of your mind and chew him out over whatever the frag it is he thinks he’s doing. And tell him that you won’t accept any excuses, he needs to take that mech, whoever they are, to get them treated by an actual _doctor._

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](http://spockandawe.tumblr.com/post/170027938041/harutemu-saidif-youre-feeling-it-i-would-love)


End file.
